She hated when people asked where she came from. She didn't like dwelling on the past, or for that matter, thinking of it at all.
The past made her feel weak, vulnerable. She loathed feeling that way.
She wasn't weak, like her mother. Her mother stayed with him to rot.
But not Laura, she got out as soon as she could. As far away as she could from him, the man that had the nerve to call himself her father.
He was evil, he was a monster that haunted her dreams, she hated him. Him and his "holier then though"...
It was a vast open space. Where the distant hills cling to the horizon, and the blue sky above curves to fasten to the mountain tops below, and desert sand cloaks sheet metal on the floor, stretching as far as the eye can see. It was an illusion…
This is the place where all things die.
This is the place where it ends.
A man in a dark suit approaches me and shakes my hand.
"I’m glad you could make it."
As blood runs across the sand, and the sun drops, and red sky filters between the moments of openness...
I wonder, looking at the picture, who he was, to dream so... audaciously. Really. To even think he could surpass me-- us, I remember, looking over at her. Her belly is round and curved, like a ripe melon, and I smile. She does not reply; she is tinkering with some wires. I am sure in a few minutes she will have something ready that will sell for millions.
The man in the photo is looking off to the side at something else. He is wearing a bulky waistcoat. I should think he epitomizes the stereotypical inventor. Indeed, the fantastical creation...
Dark spires pierce the night, reaching for full moons and distant stars. It's more than most could contend with. We sleep, conjuring pistol dreams while the tall buildings and statues do the work of our desires of actively attaining the beauty that this world has to offer. Every day we awake to the soft sunlight shining through our windows believing that today is the day that we will quit our jobs and move to distant cities and start anew. But these thoughts dim as we put on our clothes for work and eat more morning breakfast and continue on with...
She didn't look at him as she gingerly opened the sketchbook he had laid in front of her. Carefully schooling her face into it's most neutral expression, just in case she didn't like what she saw.
She needn't have worried.
For as she opened the book and began to gaze over the imagery, the concepts, the scribbled annotations that sounded like he had been talking to himself as he wrote them, she became lost in the world he was describing.
She could feel him tense next to her. She understood that, by being shown his work it was like she...
The world was ending. Not in the sense of Deep Impact or Independence Day. No, this wasn't a big budget Hollywood thriller. Simply told, the world was ending because drinking water was drying up, the ozone layer was nearly kaput, and we genetically engineered vitamins out of fruits and vegetables for blemish free skin. The lucky who weren't dropping dead of dehydration were losing their teeth to nutrient deficiency and getting 3rd degree burns from the sun.
Years earlier, NASA had found a planet that might support life and as things became more dire on Earth, they spent more time...
"I got a garbage brain," he sang as he swam.
"What?" she asked, spitting water.
"I got ninety six ears and ninety six eyes," he continued.
She knew she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him and plunged down under the surface. She let the air escape her lungs as she sank deeper into the turquoise water.
A brightly coloured fish swam passed her. She wondered what kind of fish it was. She wondered why she hadn't ever been curious about fish before. Her lungs started to hurt.
She kicked and stroked and soon broke the surface....
I don't know what to put here. I was told that this was fun, but I am not sure yet. My friend has written many of these 6 minute stories, some of them are fairly weird. I have not written any stories in quite some time, and really I don't know if you count the sailor moon fanfiction as "stories" and not "strange kid slightly obsessed with cartoon show that DIC wouldn't finish translationg because other kids might find out what gay people are." Where was I? Oh yes. The weird 6 minute story thing. I don't know... maybe I...
I look at the glistening gold clock hung onto the station wall. Time is ticking. So slowly I feel that time has frozen. I glance around me, people struggling to pull their trolley due to their 10 suitcases on them. Families excited to go somewhere different. I wonder where all these people are going. Is it to the grand canyon? Is it to the Middle East? Who knows. I look up and see my travel guide. All I have taken with me. We don't need the 10 suitcases or the travel itineraries. We don't need the unneeded stress of expired...
Four men on the port were looking for a penny stuck in the sails. It was the 4th Annual Whale Hunting Organization of America's Penny Party. Hidden somewhere on the great masted ship was a penny and there was a great amount of backslapping and thumbs-upping to whoever found it. It was generally a nice evening, plenty of deep flavored drinks flowing. Gave everyone something to think of fondly, and drunken stories to recount through the long winter months ashore before the ships went out again toward Greenland, toward the Horn. The first year, the penny (different penny) was pinned...